Surviving At Stanford
by LoveIsAllYouNeed96
Summary: After the tragic loss of Bobby and Wolfe, Carrie is struggling to move on from their deaths. With the arrival of a new love interest for Sam, Carrie is desperately trying to make her long distance relationship with Dean work. With money tight and fellow classmates to contend with, can Stanford truly be a fresh start? Sequel to 'Family Don't End With Blood'.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **So here it is, the sequel. I am going to try and post a chapter a day because I have most of this story already written. As a present though, today I am going to post two :)

* * *

**December**

Since the start of term in September, things had been pretty hectic. Apart from the mountains of coursework that Sam and I had been ladened with, every piece with it's own deadline which usually only gave us a day to get it finished, two if we were lucky, and the Lecturer was generous; Sam and I were also holding down two jobs each just to get enough money for food, and to pay the rent.

Our plans to get an apartment of our own became more and more of a pipe dream as we found ourselves constantly having to fork out for equipment, text books, etc. So our horrendously snug room remained our home as the months passed.

The size of the room itself resembled a cupboard in it's dimensions, because it was. The owner of the place had converted the old utility cupboard into a room a couple of years ago. Due to lack of space, Sam and I decided that we couldn't have a bed each as there literally wasn't enough room to fit both of the frames on the little floor space we had, so instead we swapped the beds the guy who owned the place had left outside the door to our Harry Potter style cupboard under the stairs, for the bunkbed the students that lived in the room above us had been given.

I'm not even kidding.

When Sam and I arrived at Stanford and found the place, the guy simply threw the keys at us and pointed us ruffly in the right direction down the corridor. That's when we found the beds outside and the reason why they weren't actually in the room. Talking to the students upstairs when we swapped beds, it turned out that they were actually paying to live here, which was probably why Sam and I got stuck with the broom cupboard. The scholarship entitled us to a room at a discounted rent, it didn't specify what size it had to be. But anyway, having a bunkbed meant that we could at least have a bit of floor space.

After saving up the money we made from our jobs, Sam and I were able to buy a cheap desk and a wooden chair. Slowly but surely, our room was becoming more and more homely. Things like the mirror on the wall, the desk lamp, the lamp shade and the rug were all from the thrift shop and only cost us around $7. I had put my photo of Bobby and I up, like I promised, and Sam had also put up a little framed picture of Mary and John.

We'd spend most nights after classes in our room. Being on scholarships meant that everyone knew you were poor and therefore we didn't get invited to anything at first. Sam had a guy called Brady in his Law class that he talked to, and he'd introduced him to a girl called Jess, but that was about it on the friends front. To be perfectly honest, I didn't really want to talk to anyone in my English class. Everyone in it was either stuck up, annoying, childish or just down right pathetic. I was sick of hearing them complaining about how hard everything was for them right now because their apartment only had 20 bedrooms, or their parents had only sent them 4k this month, or they were too tired because all of the countless parties they'd been invited to.

They don't realise what they have.


	2. Chapter 2

**Christmas Eve**

There was a knock at the door. Opening it, it was Jess. I stepped out of the door slightly, and closed it a bit behind me so that she couldn't see into the room. "Hey. I thought you were going home for Christmas?"

"I am, I thought I'd just stop by." She smiled. "So when are you leaving then?"

"Oh, we're not leaving." I stated.

Sam walked to the door after hearing that it was Jess.

"You're staying here?" She furrowed an eyebrow. "What about your parents, won't they be wanting you home for Christmas?" Jess' innocence was one of the thing's that made her so sweet.

"Some things were said before we left, so we kinda' don't have anywhere to go." Sam explained.

"Oh..." Jess nodded, before peering round the door slightly. She smiled. "I've never been in your room before."

Sam and I cringed slightly, embarrassed by the room.

Jess noticed this, and immediately kicked herself for being so forward. "I'm sorry..." She apologised. "But honestly, I know what you probably think of me." Jess stated. "That I'm some posh, stuck up brat from Maryland."

I shook my head. "We don't think that, Jess." Smiling softly, I pushed open the door. "Don't set your expectations too high."

Jess walked in.

I closed the door behind her.

Jess looked around at our room. "So this is where you've been living?"

"Yep." Sam nodded. "All four foot of it." He joked.

"It's a bit bare."

"We've got everything we need."

"And where are the Christmas decorations?" Jess asked.

"We don't really do the whole Christmas thing." I explained.

"How can you not do the whole Christmas thing? It's Christmas, you're supposed to give cheesy presents, eat too much, and fall asleep on the couch while watching The Snowman." Jess stated.

"We don't really have the money."

Jess looked at the clock on the wall before at Sam and I. "I better get going, don't want to miss my flight."

I smiled. "Bye Jess. Merry Christmas. Have fun, and try not to drink to much."

"Thanks." She smirked.

Sam walked over to the door and opened it for her. "Merry Christmas, Jess."

Jess smiled. "Merry Christmas, Sam."

* * *

**Christmas Day**

The next day, there was a knock at the door. I tried to block out the noise in the hope that whoever was knocking would just go away. Turning over in bed and pulling the covers up tighter around myself, I lifted my foot up and out of the tangle of covers and began prodding the mattress of Sam's bunk. "Sam..." I mumbled, sleepily. "Door..."

"Get it yourself..." Came his reply in the same unawake tone as mine.

"Uhhh..." I moaned, reluctantly throwing back the warm covers and swinging my legs round the side of the bed. "I hate you..." I rubbed my eyes, to try and wake myself up a bit before yawning.

"I know..." Came Sam's response.

Remembering the whole reason I was having to get up at this time, I stumbled over to the door. "I thought Santa was supposed to come down the chimney." I opened the door before furrowing an eyebrow as I noticed Jess standing outside.

"Merry Christmas!" Jess beamed.

"Jess? What are you doing here?"

"Well, you two don't have anywhere else to go, and it didn't seem right to go home and celebrate knowing that you and Sam would be here through Winter break, so I thought we could celebrate together. You know, just the three of us." She explained. "I brought eggnog." Jess smiled, holding up a jug.

"Not meaning to burst your bubble or anything, Jess, but Sam and I aren't exactly the Cratchit's." I didn't want to ruin her Christmas, not when she still had the chance to get home and celebrate properly.

"It's as if you want to get rid of me, Rose." She smirked.

"I don't, it's just that your Christmas will be 20 times better if you spend it with your parents." I stated

"Oh come on, you can't not celebrate Christmas." Jess stated with a smile.

"Bah humbug." Shouted Sam with a smirk from inside the room.

I laughed. "Won't your parents be expecting you?" I asked.

"I've just got back from visiting my parents. That's where I made the cookies and got the eggnog from. I also bought this." She handed me a green plastic wreath with a red bow painted on it. "You had to have at least one decoration." She smiled.

"Jess you really shouldn't have gone to so much trouble over us. Seriously."

"Don't be stupid. She smiled. "It's Christmas, your supposed to give people things. Just in this case, I'm giving you Christmas."

"Fine." I stepped back from the door and waved her in. "Welcome to Scrooge and Marley's."

Sam, who was now suddenly wide awake after hearing that it was Smurfette at the door, was standing by the bed. He then took the bags and jug off Jess before walking over to the desk and placing them down on it.

Jess placed down the plate of cookies before looking around for somewhere to hang the wreath. Finding an overhanging bracket on the curtain rail in which to hang it from, Jess tried to hook it up, but wasn't tall enough. Sam walked over, and lifted her up slightly so that she could reach it, both laughing and giggling as it took a few attempts to hang the tacky thing up.

I smiled at how adorable the two of them were. Seeing Sam and Jess, I found myself missing Dean more than ever. I knew he was only a phone call away, but I couldn't hide the fact that I was scared. It had been just over 4 months since we'd last spoken, and that was when he dropped us off here.

The wreath didn't exactly make the room look very festive, but if it would make Jess happy to have it up there, then that was all that really mattered.

"Eggnog?" Jess asked.

"Sure." I nodded before grabbing two mugs, and a glass and putting them down next to the jug. "Sorry." I apologised. "Nobody really comes round, so we don't really have anything better than that." I slid the mug across to her. "You can have mine, I'll have the glass."

Jess filled them all with eggnog.

Sam walked over and handed me his mug before picking up the glass.

"Thanks." I smiled.

"You're welcome." He smiled back.

"So how do you two know each other?" Jess asked.

"Carrie's my sister." Sam stated, before taking a sip out of his glass of eggnog.

Jess furrowed an eyebrow. "Your name's Singer though, right?"

Name: Carrie Singer / DOB: 1st June 1983' Is what my Student ID card reads. When filling out our Stanford admission forms, Sam and I thought it would probably be best if I changed my surname, as 'Carrie Winters' would flare up notes about the car accident, and the fact that I was effectively missing for the last two years, and still technically am. I thought Singer was appropriate.

I nodded. "Long story." Taking out my phone, I checked to see if I had any texts or missed calls.

I didn't.

I was really starting to get worried. I hadn't heard from Dean since the day he dropped us off at Stanford. He had also promised that he'd come up here for Christmas. The pit of my stomach was telling me that something was wrong.

Knowing exactly what I was thinking about, Sam nudged me causing me look up at him before he smiled reassuringly. "He'll be here."

I nodded, although I had my doubts.

* * *

Sat on one of the snow covered benches in the park just across from our apartment block, I looked down at my phone, my finger nervously hovering over the call button.

'Don't be a wuss, Carrie! It's only Dean! Just ring the friggin' guy already!'

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the button and put the phone to my ear as I nervously listened to the rings.

"This is Dean. State your name, number and nightmare after the tone."

'Well that's new.'

"Plan B." I scrolled down my contacts list before pressing call.

"This is Dean's other cell, leave a message." Came the response of the voicemail message after endlessly ringing like his first number had.

"Plan C..." I dialled the number.

'Ring...ring...ring...'

"This is Dean's other, other cell. I'm sure you know what to do after the tone."

'Oh screw it!' I sighed before flipping my phone shut and looking down at the snow on the ground. I pulled my coat a little bit tighter around myself as the chill of Winter set in a little. Glancing at the phone in my hand, I thought I'd give it one last go.

'Ringing, ringing and more ringing...'

"This is Dean. State your name, number and nightmare after the tone."

'Beep'

"Hey, Dean. By the sounds of your voicemail message, you've obviously started hunting again, which is why you probably can't answer your phone. Things have been a little chaotic here, and I can't imagine what you're doing is any easier either. " I paused. "Don't laugh at me for saying this, but right now, I just want to hear the sound of your voice, instead of some crappy recording...especially on Christmas..." I sighed. "Sitting here, I'm trying to keep my mind at rest that you're not bleeding to death in a ditch somewhere, because I don't see what you could possibly be hunting at this time. Truth is, I'm trying to hold it together, man. Sam's not doing so good. Everything with John's really hit him hard, and it's clear that he's missing you." I sniffled, unshed tears threatening to fall. "I miss you so much, Dean..." My voice cracked as a tear trickled down my cheek. "You said you'd be here..." More tears began to fall as I could no longer hold them back. I glanced down at the time on the phone, there wasn't long left before Christmas Day would be over for another year. "Merry Christmas, Dean."

The phone beeped to say the recording time had elapsed, and that's when I broke down. A light sniffle becoming a sob. I buried my head in my hands as I cried.

I felt the bench move slightly under the pressure of someone sitting down next to me before an arm was wrapped around my shoulders.

Looking up, I sniffled.

It was Sam.

He pulled me against his side.

I rested my head against his shoulder as I continued to cry.

"Merry Christmas, Carrie." Sam spoke up in a soft, comforting tone.


	3. Chapter 3

**New Year's Eve, 2001**

"I'm back..." I swung open the door and walked into the room. My eyes widened.

John was stood next to Sam.

"John?" I furrowed an eyebrow, before my gaze went to Sam for some clarity as to what was going on.

"Carrie..."

"What?"

"It's Dean." John stated.

"What about him?" My tone cracked slightly.

"He's missing."

"So when did you realise he was missing?" Sam asked.

"I sent him off on a Wendigo hunt, would have taken him two, three days max. When he didn't come back after five, I thought he'd just run into some trouble with the case and needed extra time to finish it, but as the week finished, I knew something was wrong. I went down to Carson City to find him, but only found the Impala. I asked around, the locals said they saw him but hadn't seen him for a few days. Guy at the motel Dean was staying at said that he saw him going into the woods out back, but never saw him come out."

"Then we need to find him." Sam stated.

"No." John shook his head. "You need to stay here."

Sam furrowed an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm going to check the forest, see if I can find your brother's trail. You're gonna' stay here with Carrie."

Sam scoffed. "Dean's missing, Dad. I'm not just gonna' sit here with my thumb up my ass while he could be hurt somewhere."

It was obvious that John was trying to keep his anger at bay. He walked closer to Sam with a threatening expression. "You're gonna stay here, and that's an order."

Sam shook his head. "I'm a little old to be taking your orders, don't you think?"

John walked off.

After John had gone, I turned to Sam with a heavily pissed off expression.

He turned to me, obviously expecting the mood I was going to be in after hearing all of the details from John. "Carrie..." He began.

"Don't _Carrie_ me!" I stated angrily.

"Please don't be mad."

"Mad? I'm furious!" I scoffed. "Six days, Sam. It's been six days since you found out that he was missing. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd react like this, and I didn't want to panic you." Sam answered.

I scoffed once again. "Yeah, great job you did there." I then realised something. "Six days..." I spoke under my breath before realising the significance of the number of days. "That's Christmas Day." I stated. "You knew on Christmas Day?" I shook my head. "When I was crying on that bench because I thought Dean just hadn't shown up, you knew all that time, and you didn't think to put me out of my misery?" A tear trickled down my cheek as I turned away from him and walked across the room.

"Carrie..."

I didn't answer.

"Carrie, please...just talk to me." He stated before sighing once again. "Look, I know you miss Dean..."

"Don't." I stated, turning to face him with a warning expression. I sighed angrily before grabbing my jacket and keys from the back of the chair. Walking towards the door, I swung it open.

"Carrie, where are you going?" Sam's tone was soft.

"Out..." I answered before slamming the door closed behind me.

* * *

Walking down the street towards the bar, All I could think about was the idea of Dean being out there something, alone and vulnerable. Images of him injured and bleeding, desperately hoping that we will find him. I couldn't believe that Sam and John had kept this from me! They obviously thought that the welfare of my boyfriend wasn't a big concern to me. How could they just not tell me?!

Pushing open the door, I walked into the bar. Sitting down on one of the bar stools, a barman walked over. He barely looked old enough to be drinking, never mind serving it.

"What you having?" He asked in a Southern accent.

"Vodka." I answered. "Actually, make it a double."

"You sure?" He asked.

I furrowed an eyebrow. "What?"

"Are you sure you don't just want a single and someone to talk to about whatever's wrong?" He smiled.

I smiled too. "Okay then."

The barman walked over and grabbed the bottle of vodka.

"You know what, top it up with coke." I amended once again.

The barman smiled once again. "Good choice. Means our conversations gonna be a bit more meaningful than it would have even if you'd down that." He poured some vodka into the glass before filling the rest of it with coke and walking back over, placing the glass down in front of me. "So? What's up?"

"It's a very long story." I stated.

The barman turned and looked at the clock on the wall. "Well then lucky for you, I have a very long shift tonight."

I smirked. "Are you always this flirty?" I asked with a smile.

"Busted." He smirked.

"So, my boyfriend. He's missing, and I didn't even know until like 10 minutes ago, and know I can't get the idea out of my head that he's in trouble."

The barman rested his elbows on the bar and nodded. "How did you find out that he was missing?"

"My friend, he's my boyfriend's brother. He was talking to his Dad about it and I overheard. They didn't want me to know." I explained. Wolfe's death was also on my mind too, but I wasn't going to burden him with that aswell.

"Oh..." Barman. "Awkward."

"Tell me about it." I took a swig of my vodka and coke.

"So you're angry with your friend for not telling you?"

I nodded.

"Was there a reason why he didn't tell you? Like was he trying to protect you or something?"

"I don't understand why I need protecting though. My boyfriend is missing, and I'm the one that in their eyes needs protecting. I don't understand that."

"Force of habit maybe. You said that your friend was your boyfriend's brother?"

I nodded. "I've known them for a few years, we used to live together. Then my Dad died and their Dad took me in and looked after me."

"Then that tells me that they're protective over you cause you go back. I bet you'd class them as your family even though you're not related."

I nodded.

"And they'd do the same?"

I nodded once again.

"There you go." The barman smiled. "Your family were just trying to protect you. If he is your Father figure, then he wouldn't want to see you get hurt." He paused. "Now, stop sulking in here and go back to your family, they'll be worried about you."

I smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiled once again.

I went to get my purse.

"On the house." The barman stated.

"Thanks."

"Good luck, and I hope you find him."

I nodded before walking out the bar.

* * *

Returning to the room, I opened the door and nervously walked in.

Sam was sat in the chair by the desk and stood up from it as I entered.

"Carrie." He let out a breath of relief. "Carrie, I'm sorry...I-"

I walked over to him and cut off his apology midsentence, pulling him into a hug.

Sam smiled, and embraced me back, comfortingly. Pulling away, he looked down at me with concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I answered, with as much strength in my tone as possible, trying to put a brave face on and keep it together in front of him.

"Liar." He smirked.

I smirked too, before sighing. "I'm sorry..." I began. "It's just...New Year isn't exactly full of happy memories for me."

"I know." Sam spoke in a soft tone. "We should probably get some sleep, it's been a long night." He suggested.

I nodded.

* * *

_-Sam's POV-_

An hour later, I still found myself unable to sleep. Glancing at the clock, I remembered what day it now was.

'02:08'

2002.

"Happy New Year, Carrie." Lying on my back, looking up at the white, cracking ceiling above me, I sighed. "This year will be better, I promise." I spoke softly in an almost whisper, before a tear trickled down my cheek. "Where are you, Dean?"


	4. Chapter 4

**January**

_-Carrie's POV-_

Collecting the mail, something caught my eye amongst the stack. Removing the elastic band, I took out the letter addressed to me and proceeded to open it.

'Dear Carrie,

we are holding a service at the church on the 15th February as a memorial to Wolfe. You are welcome to come along, as in my eyes, you were one of the reasons that we had Wolfe for as long as we did. You were a friend to him even after he broke the news to you, and I appreciate that. I have enclosed the details with this letter.

Mark'

* * *

Wiping the table with the cloth, the door of the cafe opened and in walked a group of students from my English class. I picked up the glasses and placed them on the tray before walking off into the kitchen and washing them. Once finished, I then walked back in and reluctantly over to their table.

One of them looked up, noticing it was me.

"Carrie."

I took my notepad out and a pen. "You ready to order?"

Another one of them looked round at the cafe, turning his nose up at it. "You work here?"

"Yeah well some of us actually have to work to keep their place here."

"Awwww..." The guy pouted mockingly. "Did Mommy and Daddy not give you any money?" He asked in a stupid voice.

"I heard from Keith that her and that Winchester kid didn't go home for Winter break." He stated. "Did the rents not want you?"

"No, cause' they're deady." Another of them laughed.

I could feel myself getting angrier and angrier.

"Aww, what's an orphan doing at Stanford?"

"What, so orphans can't achieve anything in life?" I asked, biting my tongue to try and stop myself from just punching the crap outta' them.

They laughed.

"Johann Sebastian Bach, Julius Caesar, Nelson Mandela, Steve Jobs, Louis Armstrong, Marilyn Monroe, John Lennon, Ella Fitzgerald, William Wordsworth, Eleanor Roosevelt, Edgar Allan Poe, J. R. R. Tolkien..." I paused. "Should I continue?"

That shut them up.

"Now are you going to order something or what?"

* * *

At the end of my shift, the boss called me over.

"Carrie, I've had some complaints in from customers about your attitude." He stated.

"Were they by any chance around my age and in here earlier in a group of about five?" I asked, knowing exactly who were behind the complaints.

"Comments from our customers are anonymous." The boss stated. "Anyway, I'm sorry to have to say this, but I'm gonna' have to let you go."

My eyes widened as I began to shake my head. "No, please. I _really_ need this job."

"That's not my problem I'm afraid."

Taking off my waist apron and badge, I handed them over to him before walking out of the diner.

* * *

Sat in my English class, Ruth (the tutor), was talking about the last test we did.

"I've got your results, and I must say that they were disgusting. It's clear which of you have given it any effort and which of you simply thought that your intellect alone would mean that you would pass without the need for any revision. So..." She stuck it on the wall.

The bell rang.

Everyone rushed out of their seats and over to the list on the wall.

I grabbed my bag and walked over, unable to see the list because of the amount of people.

The talking suddenly died down. Everyone then turned to me with dropped jaws.

I furrowed an eyebrow and moved closer to look at the list.

'Carrie Singer - 100/100 - A++'

My eyes widened.

The others left, mumbling in annoyance as they did.

I was about to leave too, when Ruth spoke up.

"Carrie?"

I turned to her.

A smile lit up Ruth's face. "Well done, you really deserved it. Your practices have been amazing, so why shouldn't your submitted exam be the same. I've also heard that you're working in the diner down the road and that clothes shop on Main Street.

"Was..." I stated.

"What?" Ruth furrowed an eyebrow.

"I got fired from my job at the diner." I explained.

"Why?"

"Because some people in here really don't like me."

"And why's that?"

"Because they think I'm poor. To them I'm like this fleebag that they have to put up with everyday in their English class. They turn their noses up at me because I'm on a scholarship. They're all here because their parents were rich enough to just pay for all their tuition fees. At the diner yesterday, they tried to tell me that I didn't deserve to be here because I was an orphan. So I rattled off a list for them of orphans who went on to achieve greatness, and that soon shut them up."

"Carrie, you should report them you know. Bullying is not tolerated here at Stanford in any form." Ruth stated.

I shook my head. "They'll lose their places, I couldn't do that."

Ruth smiled. "You are too kind for your own good."

"I can deal with people like them, I have my whole life." I stated. "It's fine, honestly."

"You shouldn't have had to have gotten used to it in the first place." Ruth added. "Carrie, I want you to know that my door is always open in case you ever need anything. I know what it is like to come to Stanford on a scholarship without a parents added funding. Don't be afraid to ask if you are ever short of cash."

I shook my head. "I could never ask you for money."

She smiled. "I wish all my students were like you. Smart, polite and friendly with true values at heart. My job here at Stanford, is not just to teach you. It is also to help you, and guide you towards your next steps in life. When I attended here, many years ago, I had an English tutor who told me she could help out if I ever needed money too. Like you, I told her that she couldn't do that as it was her money, but as the semester unfolded, I found myself struggling to balance everything with the little money I had. She helped me, and I am still to do this incredibly grateful. If it was not for her, then I probably would've had to leave Stanford, and would never of gotten this job." She smiled again. "I see great determination in you. You're focused on what you want, and you won't give up until you've got there. You should be proud of your achievements, your test score has ranked amongst Stanford's greats. You should celebrate with Mr Winchester."

I smiled. "It's Sam."

"Sam." She corrected. "I'm sure he'll be anxious to hear your result."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Sweetie." Ruth smiled.

* * *

Returning to the room later that night, Sam was sat anxiously on the top bunk of the bed. His long legs dangling over the side of the mattress.

I closed the door behind me and discarded my jacket on the back of the chair.

"So?" Sam asked.

I smiled. "I got full marks."

Sam's eyes widened before he lit up with pride and a beaming smile appeared on his face. Jumping down from the bunk, he rushed over and bundled me into a hug. "That's amazing! Well done."

"Thanks." I hugged him back.


	5. Chapter 5

I looked at the menu before taking out the contents of my pocket.

$20 and some change.

I can skip lunch. Anyway, I need the money to pay my half of the rent for this month. I'm used to skipping lunch anyway. Back at High School when Bobby was short of money, I didn't have it then either.

I walked out of the diner.

My phone began to ring. I rushed off round the side of the building, out of the way of the crowds of students before pressing accept. "Hello?"

"Carrie..." A weak voice spoke.

My eyes widened. "Dean..."

Dean laughed slightly, obviously in relief.

"Dean, where are you? Are you hurt?" I asked.

"Carson City, in the woods." He answered.

"Dean, are you hurt?" I asked again, as he skipped over my question the first time.

"A little."

I felt sick. "How bad?" My tone was soft, cracking and filled with worry.

He was silent for a moment. "I'll be fine." Dean answered, although his tone told me that he was probably lying.

And then in that moment, the call cut out.

"Dean?...Dean!" I shouted, as if by doing so, that was going to reconnect the call. Gasping, I sprinted across the field and down the street to Sam and I's apartment before throwing open the door and dumping the contents of my backpack onto the floor. I then delved through Sam's duffle, and filled my newly emptied backpack with some supplies before leaving the room. Making my way round to the parking lot out back, I made sure no one was watching before I used the rod to unlock the car door before getting in and jump starting the engine. Just one of the few things the Winchesters had taught me how to do. Once the engine roared into life, I sped off down the road.

* * *

Arriving at Carson City a few hours later, I dumped the car and ran towards the forest. Delving deeper and deeper into the darkened forest, I took the flashlight I had brought and switched it on. The light that came from it wasn't overly powerful, but it at least meant that I was able to see where I was going. I took my phone out of my pocket, and rang Dean's number.

"This is Dean. State your name, number and nightmare after the tone."

Alarm bells started ringing in my head. Why wasn't Dean answering? Was it because he simply hadn't heard it ring, or because he couldn't? He told me on the phone earlier that he was injured. I desperately hoped that he wasn't far away.

"Dean?" I called out, in a cautious tone as I walked further into the forest. "Dean?"

I tried his phone again.

I heard the sound of Smoke on the Water playing in the distance.

My eyes widened. "Dean!" I shouted before sprinting off in the direction the music was coming from.

Reaching the source, I gasped.

Dean lay deadly still on the forest floor at the foot of a tree. The left side of his face was covered in blood from a gash on his forhead. His clothes were torn and covered in mud, while his gun lay discarded a few feet away.

Dumping my backpack down, I dropped to my knees beside him and lifted him up gently so that his head was resting in my lap. "Dean?" I put a finger to his neck to check his pulse. I was relieved to find it there, although it was weak. "No, no, no, no, no..." I panicked in an almost whisper. Watching the mechanic rise and fall of his chest, it reassured me that Dean was still clinging onto life, despite how much he was struggling to breathe. I didn't want to think about how much pain he must be in. "Dean..." I began in weak, cracking tone. "Dean, you've gotta' hold on..." I wrapped my arms around his unconscious form. "I can't lose you too." Tears began to stream down my cheeks. "Please, Dean..."

Dean began to stir slightly, before quietly moaning in pain.

I stroked his hair, comfortingly. "It's okay..." I reassured, softly. "It's okay..."

The sound of a branch cracking underfoot could be heard. My gaze immediately fixed on the approaching threat.

The Wendigo made itself known as it emerged through the trees.

My eyes widened as I gently rested Dean back down against the forest floor, and rushed in front of him, blocking the Wendigo's path.

"Carrie..." Spoke Dean's dangerously weak tone as he pushed himself up a few inches. "No..."

A tear trickled down my cheek as I turned away from him. I knew I had to protect him.

The hideous creature growled as it walked closer and closer.

I reached into my backpack before standing up. "If you want him, then you're gonna' have to kill me first you ugly, son of a bitch!" Spraying the can of deodorant, I set it alight with the lighter before aiming at the Wendigo.

The Wendigo roared. It's claws slashed down my cheek before it's other arm hit me square in the chest causing me to fly backwards and land on the forest floor amongst a pile of sticks and leaves.

The deodrant lay out of reach.

"Gah!" I moaned,

"Carrie!" A familiar voice screamed. As Sam can sprinting into the clearing, he immediately noticed the Wendigo, before his gaze fell to the lighter and the deodrant can. Turning to me, he nodded.

I nodded back, knowing what I had to do.

"Come and get me!" Sam shouted at the Wendigo, before cocking his gun.

As I quickly crawled towards the gun, I kept glancing up to make sure that the Wendigo wasn't aware of what I was doing.

Firing a shot at the Wendigo, the creature roared before charging at Sam. It a blur, Sam was thrown clear of the clear and smacked back against the trunk of a tree before he slumped to the floor.

"Sam!" I screamed.

The Wendigo turned to me.

Crossing the rest of the distance to the stuff, I grabbed the deodrant can and once again lit the spray with the lighter's flame, continuing where I had left off burning the thing.

As the fire began to consume it, I stepped back and watched it burn to nothing more than ashes.

Slowly getting to my feet, I winced slightly before making my way over to Sam. "Sam!" I knelt down beside him and shook him gently. "Sam!"

As he began to stir, green eyes soon met my blue ones.

I smiled. "You okay?" I asked softly.

He nodded. "Yeah." Sam got to his feet.

I noticed his back. His shirt had been shredded by the branches sticking out from the tree, his back hadn't fared any better. Large cuts and scratches littered his skin.

"I'll survive." Sam stated, noticing my concern.

Walking back over to Dean, I knelt down in front of him.

"How did you know how to kill it?" Dean asked, weakly. His green eyes looking up at me.

"Read about them in one of John's books." I answered.

Dean put his hand to my face, gently stroking my cheek. "You're bleeding." He stated.

I smiled softly down at him. Even when bleeding and in pain, Dean still puts everyone before himself. "I'll heal." I turned to Sam. "We need to get him out of here."

Sam nodded before wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulders.

Taking the other side, I supported him to his feet. I looked at Sam. "How did you find me?"

"Tracked the GPS on your cell." He answered.

I furrowed an eyebrow. "But I turned that off."

"I turned it back on, just incase something like this ever happened." He stated.

Dean was like a dead weight in our arms as we walked back through the forest to the cars. Once there, I opened the back door and helped Dean down onto the seat so that he was lying across it. I then shuffled in with him, his head resting in my lap. "Hang in there, Dean." I placed my hand on his chest so that I could monitor his breathing.

* * *

It didn't take very long to reach the motel as it was only a few minutes away from the forest. Once there, I got the key for the motel room from Dean's pocket before Sam and I got him out of the car, into the room and onto the bed.

Sam left to go and pay the guy on the desk.

In the bathroom, I grabbed some stuff from the first aid box before grabbing a flannel and running it under the flowing water of the faucet.

"I got your message." Dean spoke up, his tone sounded better than it did before.

I looked round the doorframe.

"The one you left on my cell."

Walking over to the bed, I sat down on it next to Dean who was propped up by pillows against the headboard.

"I would never just break a promise like that."

"I know." I nodded. "You don't have to try and justify yourself, Dean. It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, but you can't deny that you had doubts in your mind." He stated.

"I'm not angry at you, Dean. Not in the slightest. I was just upset, that's all. I saw Sam with Jess, and it just made me realise how much I missed you." Using the flannel, I began gently dabbing the bloody side of Dean's face to remove the red stained down it. He winced slightly.

"Who's Jess?" Dean asked.

"Sam's friend. Might aswell be girlfriend seeing how much time they spend with each other." I answered.

"Sammy has a girlfriend?" A little smile appeared on Dean's face.

"He'd deny it though. You'll just get the answer 'we're just friends' if you asked." Once the blood was gone, I looked at the gash on his head. "That's probably gonna' need to be stitched up. We don't want you bleeding to death."

"Sam'll do it when he gets back."

"Good. I'm really not good with that sort of thing." I stated with a smirk.

"Like I would let you anywhere near my head with a needle and thread anyway." Dean laughed.

I laughed too.

Dean leant forward, and wrapped an arm around my neck. He then kissed me softly on the lips.

As we kissed, I didn't want the moment to end. It had been so long, and so much had happened. I could have lost Dean today, and that made me sick to the stomach just at the thought of it.

I smiled. "I'm glad you're okay, Dean."

* * *

"It's been a while since I last sneaked into someone's college apartment." Dean grinned.

I slapped him on the arm. "We're not sneaking you in."

Unlocking the door, I opened it before motioning for Dean to go in.

Walking in, Dean looked around before turning back to Sam and I. "This?" He furrowed an eyebrow. "This is your room?"

Sam nodded. "Yep."

"The motels we used to stay in were bigger than this." He stated.

"We're used to it now." I shrugged. "It's not that bad."

"So how did you end up in the smallest room in the apartment?" Dean asked.

"We're on scholarships, Dean. They're not gonna' give students that are paying a discounted rent one of the better rooms." Sam explained.

"Does your scholarships not pay for the rent?" He asked in a shocked tone.

I shook my head.

* * *

Sat on the edge of my bunk, I took another swig from the bottle of some cheap beer than Sam and I had bought.

Dean sat down next to me. "I know what you've been doing." He stated.

I furrowed an eyebrow and turned to him. "What?"

"Some woman left a message on my cell saying that she was worried about you. Apparently she's been seeing you keep skipping lunch."

"Who Ruth?" I asked.

"Something like that." Dean looked at me. "You can tell just by looking at you, Carrie."

It's true that my clothes had been getting a little baggy on me, but I didn't think it was that noticeable.

"Why didn't you or Sam tell me that you were struggling for cash?" Dean asked.

I scoffed. "I don't know, maybe because it's really bad to ring up your boyfriend and ask him for money. I'm not a WAG, Dean! We're doing perfectly fine on our own without everything trying to step in to help us out. I'm sick of everything's pity, it's embarrassing." I stated truthfully. "Ruth had no right to ring you!"

"She was just worried about you, Carrie."

Sam walked in. "Jess has found an apartment."

"Sam...We've talked about this." I stated.

"I know, but Jess' Dad knows the guy who's letting it, and he says we can have the rent at a lower price."

"Yeah but how much is the lower price?" I asked, still a bit skeptical.

"$100 a month, but we can easily get that between the three of us." Sam stated.

I knew exactly what he wasn't telling me. "So?"

"So what?" He asked.

"How much do we have to pay up front for it? The figure you've neglected to mention."

"Three months rent." Sam answered.

My eyes widened. "300 bucks?! That's 100 each! How the hell are we supposed to get that?"

"We'll figure something out." Sam stated.

* * *

The next morning I awoke to notice Dean missing and a envelope on the desk. Stumbling out of bed, I walked over and picked up the envelope.

'_First of all, I'm sorry for running off like this, but Dad called, and I had to go meet up with him. Looking at the life you and Sam have at Stanford, I'm glad you both went. Yeah you may be a little low on money right now, but I'm sure things will be better when you get your new apartment. You'll probably prefer it to the shoebox you have now. I know you're gonna kill me for doing this, but I don't care. One, because you're my girlfriend and I love you. Two, Sammy obviously likes this Jessica girl, and it's about time he had some good luck, and three, I'm 200 miles away so you can't beat me up. I'll see you soon._

**-Dean**'

Inside the envelope, was $200.

I walked over to Sam and shook his arm. "Sam, wake up."

He yawned and looked at me through half closed eyes. "What?"

"Dean left, but he dumped 200 bucks on us for the apartment deposit." I explained.

Sam's eyes widened as he sat up. "What?"

"Yeah." I handed him the envelope with the note written on it.

Sam smiled.

"Well what are you waiting for?" I asked. "Ring Jess."

* * *

Opening the door of our new apartment, my jaw dropped at the sight of it. The place was huge.

"Jesus! We're living in the friggin' penthouse compared to the size of the room we were in before." I walked further into the apartment. "Does this place have more than one room?" I furrowed an eyebrow curiously. "Oh my god it does!" Walking into one of the rooms, I grinned. "A bed!" Dumping my duffle down on the floor, I ran across and jumped onto the large double bed. "I have an actual bed!" I stated.

Sam smirked in the doorway. "The entire apartment, and the bed is your favourite part?"

Picking up one of the pillows, I threw it at him. "It's better than having to listen to your snoring!"

"I don't snore!" Sam stated, ducking the pillow.

"Yeah right." I smirked.

"So there's two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a lounge." Jess explained.

"Awesome." I smiled. "I love this place!"


	6. Chapter 6

**February**

_-Third Person POV-_

Their lips met for a few amazing seconds, before they pulled away. Left behind on Sam's lips, was the slight dampness from Jess' rosy ones. Sam stared into her blue eyes, never leaving them for a few seconds.

Jess wrapped an arm around Sam's neck and pulled him closer.

Sam tried to ignore the pain radiating from the scars and cuts on his back, fighting back a wince and a whimper because he knew he couldn't let her see the damage. Couldn't let her see what his life truly entailed, and always had. She'd run a mile. All the others had. No one wanted to be friends with the freak, nevermind want to date him.

Jess winced slightly too, sensing that she had hurt Sam, although he was trying his best to hide it from her. Removing her arm from around his neck, she simply took hold of his hands instead with a reassuring smile as she mentally kicked herself for forgetting. Sam had told her about his Mom, and what happened to her when he was young. He had told her of the fire that claimed her, and nearly him too. She knew he had scars, both physical and psychological. It was only human that he would. People don't just walk out from things like that without carrying a hefty weight of grief, guilt and a whole bunch of other unwanted crap. She knew he hadn't told her everything, but Jess didn't mind. As long as he had him, that was all that mattered. Telling her was his choice, and she believed that in time, he would open up to her more.

Sam hated lying to Jess, but it was the only way that he could protect her. He couldn't tell her about the scars that he had been hiding. He couldn't tell her that a Wendigo had been the one to cause them. He couldn't tell her the stories behind how he got all the other scars on his body. So instead, he kept her in the dark, keeping her innocence intact.

* * *

_-Jess' POV-_

Lying next to Sam, I turned over on the pillow so that I was facing him and smiled softly, tracing a finger down his cheek.

Sam has his own defense mechanism. Some people avoid him for this reason. They think he's damaged and one to stay away from. Too much trouble to be friends with. Too much hassle to have a conversation with. They don't know how wrong they are. Yes, it takes time for him to truly let you in, but once you've met that Sam, you never want to let him go. He puts on this mask to hide his true emotions, and he's good at it. But once you know the signs, you can see the scared little boy hidden inside him. The broken little soldier, carrying scars of a war. A war that he fought too young, and had to deal with as he grew up. When he knows that you can see, you witness him shutting himself up, mentally tormenting himself for getting too close. Hiding back behind a shirt with sleeves that are slightly too long, or a oversized hoodie that he can block out the world in.

Sitting up, I looked down at him before taking his hand in mine.

He knows what I've been thinking about, the fear is visible in his dewy green eyes.

It pains me to see him so afraid.

He sits up too, looking down at our hands before a few seconds later, returning my gaze. "Please don't ask about..." He doesn't finish his sentence.

I sigh and place a hand gently on the back of his neck before smiling sadly. Leaning close and pressing my lips against his, I then pull away.

Sam looks at me as if thinking 'Why did she ever choose me?'

But when you love someone, you accept them whatever form they're in.

"I love you, Sam." I stated softly. "And I know you find that hard to believe, but I do."

A small smile crossed Sam's face, before his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. As he began lifting it up, I noticed how much his hands were shaking as he did.

Once Sam removed his shirt, that's when I saw the real Sam. The Sam that he had been trying to hide away. The number of scars and cuts covering his body made me want to cry.

Sensing the shock in my eyes, I can see the regret in Sam's. Fumbling with the material of the shirt, he goes to put it back on, eyes never meeting mine.

Placing a hand reassuringly on top of his I smile softly before taking hold of the shirt and placing it down on the bed.

I witness him relax slightly.

Looking at the scars, I didn't know what had happened for him to get all these, nor did I want to know what he had suffered. I didn't ask either. Instead, I traced the thin scar on his shoulder with my finger, feeling how smooth it felt to the touch, despite how much it stood out from the tone of his skin. My gaze then lifted to his face.

Sam's head was lowered as he stared down at the blankets.

Sam didn't realise just how perfect he was. Placing a hand on his cheek, I pushed back the hair of his bang and smiled gently.

His green eyes eventually met mine once again.

Kissing him softly, I close my eyes as I relish in the warmth of his lips against mine.

And in that moment, I vowed to make sure that he would never suffer again.


	7. Chapter 7

**March**

Walking into the apartment after classes, I dumped my keys down on the side table.

"Sam? Jess?" I called out, but the lack of verbal response told me that they weren't home yet.

I heard the sound of a gun cocking behind me. I tensed immediately, as I felt the end of the gun's barrel press against the back of my head, and ice cold breath tickle my neck.

"Carrie..." A voice spoke up. "Long time no see."

Spinning round, I attempted to disarm the person that was behind me.

Knowing what I was trying to do, the person moved the gun out of my reach and instead wrapped an arm around my neck.

"How do you know my name?" I asked as I tried to wriggle free.

"Oh, I know a lot more than your name, sweetie." The man stated. "I'm not offended that you don't recognise me though, cause' I was wearing your _Dad_ at the time."

"You're the demon that possessed Bobby!" I could feel my anger rising.

"Bingo!"

"I'm gonna' kill you!" I growled through gritted teeth.

"That would be a neat trick." The demon mocked.

Taking the oppurtunity, I stamped on the demon's foot releasing his grip on my neck before landing a punch across his face.

"You little bitch!" He cussed, wiping a drop of blood of his lip before swinging a punch at me.

Ducking, I blocked it before catching his arm and trying to wrestle free the gun that he was still holding.

"Nice try." The demon grabbed hold of me and threw to the side so I slid across the floor, collided with the far wall. "But not fast enough." He slowly started walking towards me.

There was a knock at the door.

The demon glanced at the door, before bending down and dragging me to my feet. He then leant towards my ear and began to whisper. "Answer it." He ordered. "Oh, and if you say anything about me being here, I will hunt down everyone you've ever loved, and put their heads on a stick. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"Good girl." The demon grabbed me by the arm and pushed me over to the door. Hiding behind it, he kept his gun trained on me.

I reached out for the door knob, before turning it and opening the door. It was Dean.

"Hey, Carrie." He smiled.

"Hi, Dean."

Dean immediately noticed my expression. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Carrie?"

"I'm fine, Dean." I stated, hatching a plan. "Why don't you go and take a walk around Stanford...It's a real **funky town**."

Dean's eyes widened slightly as he caught on. "Yeah." He nodded. "I will do."

"Great." I smiled.

"See you around."

I nodded. "Bye, Dean." I closed the door.

The demon waited a few seconds to allow time for Dean to leave before walking closer to me. "There, that wasn't too hard now, was it?"

"Go to Hell!" I stated.

The demon grinned.

Suddenly, Dean burst into the apartment, gun cocked.

The demon grabbed me and pressed the gun to the side of my head. "Don't move!" He warned before wrapping an arm tightly around my neck, making breathing difficult.

I gasped for breath as I clawed at his hands, hoping to free my blocked airways.

Dean's eyes widened as he stopped advancing on the demon.

"Drop your weapon." The demon ordered.

Dean remained still.

"Gah!" I groaned.

Noticing my increasing discomfort, Dean put out his hand, before dropping his gun to the floor.

"Just leave her out of this, okay." Dean stated.

The demon laughed. "And why would I do that?"

"She's just a kid." Dean's tone was soft, but laced with fear.

"We both know that she hasn't been a kid for a very long time." The demon stated before his grip on me causing me to fall to the floor in a heap.

Coughing and spluttering, I relished the feel of oxygen reentering my lungs. I pushed myself up so that I was leaning against the wall.

"How nice of you to come and rescue your damsel in distress, Dean. To be perfectly honest, I should've guess that she would find a way to warn you about me." The demon stated. "But oh well, who's complaining? It means I get to tear the two of you limb from limb." The demon grinned, menacingly.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus." I began, reciting the excorcism rite that I had practiced and practiced so many times previously.

The demon turned to me, eyes turning black. "No!" It shouted.

"Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii." I continued. "Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

"You little bitch!" The demon backhanded me causing me to fall to the floor once again.

"Ergo, draco maledicte." I still continued.

The demon coughed as black smoke began to spew from its mouth. "No!" It turned to me. "Just you wait till I get my hands on you. YOU'LL WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN!" It bellowed.

"Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire." Dean began to recite the excorcism. "Te rogamus, audi nos." He finished. "Adios, bitch!"

The black smoke rose from the demon's mouth before dissapating.

I got to my feet. "Dean?"

He didn't say a word as he turned and walked off.

"Dean!" I shouted after him.

Guessing that he must be ignoring me, I caught up to him and grabbed hold of his arm, standing in front of him. "Dean, talk to me."

He sighed before shaking his head. "I can't do this anymore."

I furrowed an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"Keep seeing you get hurt like this." He answered.

"But I didn't get hurt." I stated.

"No, but you could've."

"Dean, what happened to Bobby, that's not gonna' happen to me. I know you're worried about that, but I can take care of myself now. John taught me how to defend myself."

"Yeah, a fat lot of good they did you." He commented.

I just looked at him. "You try taking on a demon by yourself with no weapon." I stated angrily, annoyed by the tone in which he had said that. "I am nineteen years old, Dean. I can make my own decisions without someone making them for me!"

"Carrie, being with me is going to get you killed." Dean stated.

"How did you work that one out?" I asked.

"Carrie, I'm serious."

"I'm serious too." I stated. "I don't care, Dean. I really don't. I love you, and that's all that matters."

"No." Dean shook his head. "I won't watch you die because of me." He stated. "I won't do it."

"You won't have to." I walked closer to him, and took his hands in mine. "I'm safer with you, Dean."

Dean took a deep breath before looking back up at me. "I'm sorry, Carrie."

I shook my head. "No...Please don't do this, Dean."

Dean pulled his hands from my grip, before heading towards the door.

"Dean!" I shouted.

The door closed.

I broke down, as all my emotions came flooding out.


	8. Chapter 8

Sitting on the couch, I could hear Sam talking in the other room. He had been ringing Dean's cell ever since I explained to him what had happened.

"Dean, call me back when you get this."

Walking into the living room, Sam sat down on the couch next to me.

I turned to him.

He smiled softly, before pulling me against his side into a hug.

I smiled, resting my head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry..." Sam spoke up.

I furrowed an eyebrow and looked up at him. "For what?" I asked. "You don't need to feel bad because of Dean dumping me. Just because he's you brother, doesn't mean you have to feel guilty about what happened too."

"I know, but he's my brother, and therefore it's my job to kick his ass and tell him that he's made the most stupid decision of his life."

"So you don't agree on the whole, being around you both is going to get me killed thing?" I asked.

"I do, but the way I see it, is that we tried to keep the knowledge of what was really out there from you, and something bad still happened. Dean does have a point though. Me and him are like magnets for these kinds of things, but I believe that even if we weren't with you, you'd still be a target. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you and we weren't there to save you. I understand what Dean's getting at, but I'm not gonna' leave you because of it."

I smiled. "Thanks, Sam."

The door opened.

"Oh and one more thing I forgot to mention." He began.

I glanced at the door, and noticed it was Jess. Then realisation kicked in. "Sam." I looked up at him. "Please tell me you didn't."

"Sorry." He mouthed.

"Carrie!" Jess rushed over and pulled me up from the couch, bundling me into a hug. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Sam told me what happened." She pulled away, and smiled softly at me. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded. "I'm gonna' go to bed, it's been a long day."

"Sure." Sam smiled.

"Night." I walked off towards my room.

"Night, Carrie." Came Sam and Jess' response.

* * *

"We should go out tonight." Jess suggested.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "I'm not really in the mood."

"Exactly, it will cheer you up." Jess smiled.

I looked at Sam, forgetting who wore the pants in their relationship.

He gave me a look that said 'Do you really think me saying anything is going to make her change her mind?'.

I smirked before turning back to Jess. "Fine, one drink."

* * *

Sat at the bar, I finished my drink before turning to the booth that Sam and Jess were sitting in.

I smiled at the sight of them holding hands as they talked to each other.

Knowing that I would only be intruding if I went over, and not wanting to spoil their night by bringing down the mood, I payed the barman before walking out of the bar.

* * *

The bar was on the other side of town, away from the bustle of the college bars. Walking down the street, I looked around at my surroundings. I had only been down here a handful of times, so nothing was really familiar. I was thankful that I was sober enough to remember the route back to the apartment. As I passed the old church, I noticed the graveyard sat behind it.

'_We are holding a service at the church on the 15th February as a memorial to Wolfe. You are welcome to come along._'

I sighed, knowing I had to face it sometime. Walking over to the brass gate, I lifted the latch and pushed it open. Entering the graveyard, I began walking down the path towards the graves. Using my phone as a torch, I began to inspect the engravings in search of his.

"You lost?" Came a voice.

I turned in an instant to see an old man holding a torch.

"No." I shook my head. "I'm looking for a...a friend of mine." I explained. "That probably sounds really weird."

"No." The man shook his head before looking me over. "Are you alright?"

I scoffed softly. "Long day."

"What's his name? Your friend?"

"Wolfe. Wolfe Dietrich." I answered.

"Follow me, I'll show you to it."

I smiled before following him through the graveyard.

Making our way down the old stone path, we soon came to a patch of newer headstones.

"There you go."

"Thank you." I smiled.

"No problem, sweetie." The man smiled back. "You take care now."

Walking down the row, I illuminated each headstone with the light from my phone, until I found his name.

'Wolfe Dietrich ~ 15th February, 1983 - 1st January, 2002 ~ Loving Son'

"Hey." I spoke up, softly. "I know it's been a while, but better late than never, right?" I sat down on the ground, leaning back against his headstone. "Guess I've been a dick, huh?" I sighed. "I couldn't do it. Chickened out at the last minute." I looked at his headstone. "I'm sorry, Wolfe." A tear trickled down my cheek. "I should've come." I paused. "It was your memorial, and I was busy worrying about my own stupid life." I sniffled. "Dean and I broke up." I stated. "He ended it a couple of days ago." I smirked. "You'll be happy. You always hated him. Always said the good looking boys are the ones destined to break you heart. Just one of your words of wisdom." I smiled. "It was like having my own personal Yoda around to keep me on the right track." More tears began to fall. "So...thanks..." I smiled weakly. "Looking back now, you took care of me, even though you had all that crap going on in your own life. But that was you. You always put everyone else first." My voice cracked. "I miss you, Wolfe." I broke down in tears, before burying my head in my hands as I cried.

"Please don't cry." I heard a voice speak softly.

I furrowed an eyebrow, looking up in an instant. As I saw him, my eyes widened.

Wolfe knelt down beside me.

"Wolfe?"

He smiled softly.

I reached out my hand towards him, amazed when I was actually able to make physical contact with him. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I smiled in amazement before pulling him closer, bundling him into a hug. "I've missed you so much!" Tears were still trickling down my cheeks.

"I've missed you too." Wolfe stated with a smile as he hugged me tight.

Pulling a away a few seconds later, I took in the sight of him.

Wolfe sat down beside me, leaning back against his own headstone.

"How can I?" I began.

"See me?" Wolfe finished. "For someone who knows what you do, does this really seem out of the ordinary?"

"How do you know about that?" I asked.

"I never left you, Carrie." He stated. "Well maybe physically, but my spirit followed you."

"So you're not real?"

"No." Wolfe shook his head. "I'm all in here." He pointed to my head. "But that doesn't matter." He smiled softly. "I'll always be with you, Carrie. You're my friend, and my death isn't going to change that."

I smiled.

"Come here." He put out his arm and wrapped it around my shoulders before pulling me against his side.

I smiled once again and rested my head on his shoulder. A lone tear fell.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, softly.

"Because I'm happy." I answered.

Wolfe smiled. "I love you, Carrie. Remember that."

I nodded.

"Carrie..."

"I will."

"Carrie..."

I felt myself being shook.

"Carrie!" Someone shouted.

Sam was knelt in front of me. A look of relief was visable on his face. "Oh thank god!"

"What?" I looked around.

Wolfe was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." I nodded. "I'm fine." I stood up.

Sam glanced at the headstone I had been sitting next before realisation kicked in. He sighed. "Carrie, I am so sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't be."

"I should have remembered." He stated.

"It's not your responsibility to remember everything in my life, Sam."

"I know how hard it was for you after Wolfe..."

"Don't!" I cut him off. "We're not going to re hatch that..." I looked around, noticing Sam's lack of blonde companion. "Where's Jess?"

"She's back at the apartment." Sam explained. "You just left earlier at the bar. We thought you'd just gone back there." Sam paused. "Why did you take off earlier?"

"You and Jess were happy, Sam. You weren't worrying about me, you were having fun with your girlfriend. You deserve it, so I wasn't going to ruin it by being the third wheel."

"You're not the third wheel, Carrie." Sam stated.

"Yes I am. I always have been." I stated. "I was to my parents. They didn't give a crap about me, they just showed up every few months then vanished for the rest of the year. I was to my friends. They didn't like me. Treated me like shit and never included me in anything. I was just this lonely kid that everyone ignored cause' they all thought I was a freak."

"Carrie..." Sam began, softly.

A tear trickled down my cheek. "Everyone around me dies!" I shouted. "First it was my Mom and Dad, then Wolfe, and Bobby!" I was beginning to break down, as my strong tone began to crack. "Everyone!" I stated.

Sam walked closer before cautiously reaching out to me and gently taking a hold of my arm.

I pulled it free from his grip. "You don't get it!" I stated. "Everyone leaves me!" I looked down and scoffed. "Hell, even Dean has." I looked back up at Sam. "Why me?!" I screamed.

"Come here." Sam spoke softly before wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight.

"No!" I shouted, as I fought against his hold.

Sam stroked my hair, unaffected by the light hits I was throwing at his chest. "I know." He comforted softly. "It's okay...It's okay..."

I burst into hysterical sobs in Sam's arms, burying myself against him as I cried.

"It's okay..." He reassured.

"I miss him so much." I admitted. "I miss Dean."

"I know." Sam rested his head on top of mine, holding me tight in comfort. "It's okay, Carrie. Everything's gonna' be okay."

* * *

_-Sam's POV-_

Looking down at Carrie lying asleep on the couch, I winced in sympathy. She looked so broken. Her eyes dark red from crying.

As Jess walked in, her eyes widened. "Thank God! I was so close to calling the cops and reporting you two missing. Where have you been?" She then noticed Carrie. "What happened?"

"She's not coping well." I stated.

"It's not just that." I sighed. "Carrie lost her Mom and Dad in a car accident when she was fifteen. She was in the backseat. My Uncle took her in and looked after her. A few months down the line, Carrie made a friend at school. His name was Wolfe. Well, long story short, Wolfe had cancer. Carrie was there when he died. After that, my Uncle, he died too. Carrie watched it happen." I paused. "I found her tonight, in the graveyard crying beside Wolfe's headstone."

A tear trickled down Jess' cheek.

"You didn't see her, Jess. Not when she had tears streaming down her cheeks, and was screaming about how everyone around her dies, or leaves her."

Jess walked over and pulled me into a hug.

"She's not in a good place right now." I paused. "Everything with Dean, it's..." I paused again. "She's wrecked, Jess." I looked down at Jess. "What are we going to do?"

Jess looked up at me. "You need to call your brother."

* * *

Finding Dean's number, I pushed call.

Ring...ring...ring...

"Come on, Dean, answer your phone."

After a few unsuccessful attempts, he eventually picked up.

"Sammy, I'm kinda' busy right now." Dean stated.

"It's about Carrie." I stated.

"Sam..." Dean spoke, dryly, knowing what I was going to try and do. "Listen..."

"No! You listen!" My tone was strong. "You know where I found her tonight?" I asked. "Crying her eyes out in a cemetery."

"Why was she in a cemetery?"

"Visiting Wolfe's grave." I paused. "She's not coping, Dean..." I sighed. "She's not sleeping, she's not eating, she hardly talks. The most she's said to me in the last week was tonight when she screamed about how everyone around her either dies or leaves her, before she broke down." I explained. "She thinks the world's against her right now." I paused. "Look man, I know you're trying to be the good boyfriend and stay away for her own safety, but this is killing her."

"What do you want me to say, Sam?" Dean asked. "I mean come on man, you can't seriously think that being around us is good for her."

"No, but she's been in our lives for how long, as she's still here."

"Yeah but look how many times she's been caught in the crossfire."

"Dean, before she met Bobby, Carrie had no one. The last thing she needs is to feel like she's alone."

"She's better off without me, Sammy." Dean stated. "She..." He paused. "She just is."

He hung up.

"Dean!" I went to argue before realising that he had hung up. "Damn it!" I threw my phone down on the bed in anger.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: This chapter is the last of my daily posts. I will post the next chapter sometime in the New Year. I hope you are enjoying the story so far. I would really appreciate some feedback on all of the chapters posted so far to see what you think. I would also love to hear what you want to happen in the story and your suggestions as to how I can improve the story. Have a great Christmas and a very happy New Year and I'll see you again in January! :)**

* * *

"Sam, opening up is going to get me locked away in a padded room."

"How?"

"I want you to open up about the day he died." I imitated. "Well, Bobby got possessed by a demon with black eyes and started beating me up. Then he pulled a knife out on me, so to save me, Bobby stabbed himself in the stomach."

"You know what I mean."

Jess walked in.

"Please, just consider it." Sam stated.

I scoffed. "I don't need a grief counselor." I looked between them. "There is nothing wrong with me. Everyone feels depressed after they get dumped, stop trying to turn this into some suicide intervention." I stood up from the couch before walking out of the room.

"Carrie..." Sam called after me.

I walked into my room and slammed the door closed behind me.

* * *

I knocked on the door.

When the door opened, it was. Brady.

"Hi, Brady." I smiled. "Sam sent me. Do you have the notes for Law?"

Without saying anything, Brady turned and went back inside the apartment.

Strange.

Regardless, I walked in too.

Picking up the notes, he handed them to me.

"Everything okay? You seem annoyed." I asked.

"Do you think Sam and Jess appreciate you being with them 24/7?" Brady spoke up.

I furrowed an eyebrow. "What?"

"Can't hold down a relationship of your own, so you're trying to ruin someone else's."

I walked closer to him. "Who are you to start interfering in our lives?"

"I'm their friend."

"Yeah, and I'm just his cousin, twice removed on his Father's side." I mocked, sarcastically.

"Any why? Because you lost some old drunk that by the sounds of it was really fuckin' crazy."

Anger flared up inside me as I grabbed Brady by the collar. "Don't you EVER talk about Bobby like that!" I let go of him. "Admit it, you're just jealous that's someone actually loved me!"

Brady punched me square across the face.

The brunt force of his punch caused me to fall to the ground. Blood trickled from my lips as I looked up at him.

"Get out!" Brady stated. "Get out!" He screamed.

I smirked, angrily. "Gladly." I stood up and walked down the hallway before exiting the house, slamming the door behind me.

* * *

-Jess' POV-

"Did you hear that?" I asked, turning to Eve and Hannah.

Eve nodded. "Yeah, it sounded like it came from out back."

We walked downstairs before cautiously opening the back door. Making our way out onto the porch, I noticed someone lying on the grass, and quickly realised who it was.

"Carrie?" I called, walking over.

She looked so upset and broken.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Not really." She answered.

Carrie was in a pretty bad state, and her lip was bleeding. "What happened to your face?"

"Well when you accuse your friend of being jealous, this is the result." She stated. "An incredibly hard punch in the mouth." Carrie moved her head back so that she was looking up at the sky. I hated seeing her this drunk.

Eve and Hannah walked over, and smirked at the sight of her.

"Well look what the cat dragged in." Hannah stated. "It's scruffy Singer." She smirked. "I've heard a lot about you."

Carrie's face reddened in embarrassment, as she pulled her hoodie around herself a bit more.

"What are you doing in my backyard?" Eve asked.

"I- I came to see Jess." Carrie answered.

"Why?" Hannah furrowed an eyebrow.

"She's my friend." She looked so confused.

"Eww..." Eve turned her nose up.

"Leave her alone, Eve." I spoke up.

"Awww, you befriended the orphan." Hannah teased. "How very...Harry Potter."

I could see Carrie getting angrier and angrier.

Eve walked closer and looked over my clothes with a smirk. "Hmm, nice threads."

"Which thrift shop you get them from?" Hannah asked. "Cause' that is where you buy your clothes, isn't it?"

Carrie bit her tongue, obviously trying to stop herself from ripping their faces off.

"Come on, Carrie." I spoke up once again. "Let's get out of here." I took hold of Carrie's arm and began walking her away from the two of them.

"God, have you seen her?!" Hannah whispered to Eve with a giggle. "I'm not surprised her boyfriend left her."

Something snapped inside of Carrie as she stormed back over to Hannah and landed a punch hard across her face, knocking her backwards onto the ground. "Stay away from me!" She walked off.

* * *

-Carrie's POV-

Walking down the street, on my way back to the apartment, tears were slowly trickling down my cheeks. Sniffling, I tried to fight them, but it was no use.

I could hear Jess trying to catch up to me.

"Carrie!"

"Leave me alone, Jess!" I shouted.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Jess shouted, as she caught up to me. "How much have you drank?" She asked.

"What does it matter?" I replied, bitterly.

"You just punched her!" Jess stated.

"She deserved it!" I retorted.

"Dean wouldn't want you to be like this." Jess stated.

"One, Dean would probably have punched her because of what she said. Two, she deserved it, and three, don't even go there, Jess!" I warned. "Not tonight, I'm really not in the mood!" I looked at her with a killer expression.

"What? It's true."

"Don't play the Dean card."

"Carrie, you're in no condition to walk back to the apartment, you're smashed and pissed, and you know that's not a good combination! You're going to get yourself killed."

"Look, as much as I appreciate the whole mother duck smothering thing you got going on here, I'm fine. In fact, I'm better than fine."

"You know I don't believe that." Jess stated. "You loved him, Carrie, and I know you're hurting right now, but drinking yourself into oblivion like this isn't going to help."

"I'm fine." I stated, stubbornly.

"No you're not." Jess stated, caringly. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

"And where is that exactly?" I asked with a broken expression. "Cause' right now, I feel like I don't belong anywhere."

"Carrie, please just let me drive you back to the apartment."

"I don't want anything from you." I stated. "I'll be fine...Please, just leave me alone."

Jess sighed. "You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" I asked sternly. "Because right now, I'm having trouble even looking at you."

"Carrie, please, you gotta' hear me out."

"Why? So that you can tell your friends more about me, about how I'm some poor, orphan freak that can't afford new clothes?!"

"Come on, Carrie, that's not what I meant." Jess stated.

"So what did you mean?" I pushed.

"I didn't tell them anything! I swear!"

"And I'm willing to believe that, but for now...just leave me alone!" I went to walk off, but turned back round to her. "You know what, Jess?" I began. "Back in December, when we were first getting to know each other, you said that you didn't me to think of you as some posh, stuck up brat from Maryland. Now, it's pretty hard not to think of you like that, when you're acting like one! Yes, fair enough, the majority of the clothes I wear are from thrift shops. Big woop! Now I don't care, so you shouldn't either. Now seeing as you and your friends must have had so much fun bitching about what I wear, I'm just gonna' make it plain and simple and say that I really don't care what you think, or anyone else for that matter! Cause' that's who I am. I'm not going to change because of people like you, Hannah and Eve who think they're superior to everyone else just because you have money." I stated. "I'll let you in on a little secret. Do you know what people who have money tend to not have? The only thing they can't buy, not matter how much money they through at them?" I paused. "Friends." I stated. "This is who I am...Take it or leave it!" I walked off.

As I crossed the road, I found myself being illuminated by a bright light.

Turning to the source, my eyes widened at the sight of the car speeding towards me. I gasped, knowing it was too late for me to be able to avoid the inevitable impact. Closing my eyes, I waited...

Finding myself falling, I landed on the ground.

Opening my eyes, I was lying on the sidewalk. Looking up, a guy in a trenchcoat was knelt down beside me.

"Thank you." I spoke up, not really sure what else to say.

"You are under my protection, it's my job to keep you safe." The guy stated.

I furrowed an eyebrow.

Suddenly, he was gone.

My eyes widened as I looked around. "What the hell?"

That's it, I've officially gone insane!

Picking myself up off the sidewalk, I decided to take the longer route back to the apartment which didn't involve crossing anymore roads.

* * *

Opening the door of the apartment, I was instantly bundled into a hug by a very relieved looking Sam.

I wrapped my arms around him and buried myself into his chest, still coming to terms with what the last 24 hours had brought for me. I had: been advised to go see a grief counselor, been punched, gotten drunk, wandered over to one of Jess' friend's houses is search of Jess (much to the amusement of Eve and Hannah), nearly got hit by a car, and saved by a mysterious trenchcoat wearing guy who just dissapeared right in front of me.

As Sam pulled away, he took in my appearance. I noticed him looking at the bruise I had by my mouth.

"Pissed someone off real bad." I explained.

Sam paused. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Well I don't know if it was a ghost, but I saw something weird." I stated.

Sam furrowed an eyebrow. "What?"

"I was walking back to the apartment, and as I was crossing the road, I wasn't looking, and this car nearly knocked me down. Before it hit me though, this guy pulled me out of the way of it. He said something about me being under his protection, and that it was his job to keep me safe. Then after that, he just vanished into thin air."

"Did you catch what he looked like?" He asked.

"He was wearing a trenchcoat." I answered. "How could he just dissapear like that?"

Sam shrugged. "Are you sure he did? Cause' you would have been pretty freaked after nearly being hit by the car, maybe your brain just imagined it."

"When is anything in our lives down to something we've imagined?" I stated. "I'm telling you, Sam. One second he was knelt down beside me, the next he was just gone."

Sam looked down at me. "Has anything else happened?"

I shook my head. "No."

He just looked at me. Sam has known me for too many years to believe my cover ups.

At that moment, the door opened, and Jess came walking in, nervously.

I sighed. "I'm going to bed." I walked off to my room.

* * *

-Third Person POV-

Sam furrowed an eyebrow, before looking at Jess. "Has something happened between you two?"

"You could say that."

Sam closed the gap between himself and Jess, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "Tell me." He stated softly.

"She was drunk, and she came to Eve's house. I think she was looking for me. I feel really bad, because she looked upset and like she wanted someone to talk to. You know, like she was actually going to open up."

"And what happened?"

"Hannah and Eve happened!" Jess stated. "I've never seen them act like that before! They just launched an attack on Carrie! Like they ripped her apart. I tried to stop them, but it was hopeless, and now Carrie angry at me." She explained. "She thinks that I've been making fun of her behind her back, but I swear, I haven't said anything." She stated. "After how I saw them treat her tonight, I want nothing to do with them."

"You know, Carrie, she gets angry, but doesn't mean it." Sam reassured. "I've known her for long enough to know that she just needs some time to cool off, and then she's back to her usual self in a few hours." He stated.

"I hope so."

"Trust me." Sam smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

"Let's start off with an easy question." The therapist smiled. "What's your name?"

"Carrie." I answered.

"Carrie, what?"

"Depends who you ask."

"What is your surname, Carrie?" The therapist pushed.

"Winters, but I'm known as Singer."

"And why are you known as Singer?"

"Cause' that's my Dad's surname." I stated.

"Not your real father's though. Any reason why you adopted that surname instead of keeping the surname you had for so many years?"

"Free country."

"You called him your Dad, why give him that title?"

"Why'd you think?" I answered.

"I'm asking you." The therapist replied.

The mention of Bobby was already starting to bring back painful memories, but I knew I couldn't allow myself to breakdown because of them, not here anyway. I had to stay strong.

"You came here for help, Carrie, and I can't help you unless you open up." The therapist explained.

"I didn't want to come here at all..." I muttered under my breath.

"But yet, here you are." The therapist stated. "Which tells me that you're not doing this for you, you're doing it for someone else. A friend? Boyfriend, maybe?"

"Look..." I began. "This whole 'talk about your feelings' thing, it's crap."

"Why is that?" The therapist asked.

I didn't say anything.

"Or is it because you feel that you can't be helped?"

I scoffed.

"What?"

"Does this normally work with your patients? Get them to open up and tell stories around the campfire?" I stated in a mocking tone.

"People come here to talk, because they feel that they desperately need someone to open up to that won't judge them." The therapist paused. "Now obviously there is someone out there that you care about, deeply, because like I said before, you've actually showed up to the session. Now this person cares about you, and they have felt that you need to see someone, because you've obviously been through something in your life that has had a negative effect on you, and they want you to get better." The therapist leant back in his chair. "Everyone has their dark spots."

I scoffed once again. "My dark spots are _pretty_ dark."

"Tell me about them."

This guy is determined.

The therapist opened a file and began reading over it. "Carrie Winters, 19. Daughter of Mitch and Natalie, both deceased. Killed in a car crash on September 27th, 1997. You were 15 at the time. You were injured too in the accident, but pulled through with little more than some bruises and a scar below your ear. The time between the car crash and 1999 is unknown. You were under the radar of the CPS, and only came back onto it when you enrolled at Sioux Falls High, now with a new address and parental guardian, a Mr Robert Singer, also deceased. Died of a stroke two years ago. You were 17. While attending Sioux Falls High, you lost a close friend. Wolfe Dietrich. Died of cancer on January 1st, 2000." The therapist looked back over at me. "Your friend Mr Winchester has included some extra notes on this record. I could read through them too...unless you would like to tell me yourself."

"Where d'you want me to start?" I asked.

"How about we start at the beginning?" The therapist suggested. "Specifically, your parents. Did you have a good relationship with your parents?"

I was a bit reluctant to answer.

"It's alright, Carrie. I'm not here to judge."

"Not really." I answered.

"Why not?"

"They were never there, and when they were, we would always fight."

"Who would fight?"

"Me and my Dad." I stated. "We argued about everything. Hell, we were arguing the day they died."

"Have you ever told anyone that before?"

I shook my head. "No."

"So you were arguing the day they died?"

"Yes."

The therapist nodded and began taking notes.

"We were arguing in the car."

"Why?"

"We had been arguing the night before, and he got so angry that he rang some family friends and arranged for me to stay with them for a while. I brought it up in the car, and we started arguing about it. The last thing I ever said to him was that I hated him." I paused. "Then the truck hit us."

"What can you remember about what happened after the truck hit you?" The therapist asked.

"The car started spinning, then I was thrown from it." I paused. "I can remember shouting for them, but I didn't get a reply. I called 911, then I must've passed out. The next time I became aware, I was in an ambulance, then after that, I must've passed out again because the next thing I can remember is being at the hospital. I could hear them talking. They were shouting about how they were losing me..." I paused. "At one point, they gave up." I paused once again. "'Give up, the kid's gone'. I remember one of them saying. They nearly called it, turned me off. Then I luckily came back." I explained. "Once I was in recovery, they told me about my parents. I didn't really know how to feel at first. A part of me wanted it to just be a dream, like I would just wake up from this crazy Wonderland at any moment. But I never did, and it hit me like a bag of rocks when I realised that I was an orphan." I paused once again. "I didn't like that word."

"Did you attend the funeral?" The therapist asked.

I shook my head. "I wouldn't have been welcome."

The therapist raised an eyebrow, curiously. "To your own parents funeral?"

"My Auntie hated me." I stated. "Not that it mattered anyway, I was pretty messed up after I was discharged. I didn't know what to do. I dropped out of school, moved out of the house."

"So where did you live?"

"Anywhere." I answered.

"So how did you come to meet Mr Singer?"

"Bobby."

"What?"

"Bobby." I stated. "He's called Bobby." I explained.

"Okay then, how did you meet, Bobby?" The therapist asked.

"I...got into some trouble at the diner in town, and Bobby helped me out." I stated. "It had been one of those bad weeks when I just couldn't find anywhere to stay or squat. I'd been shood off half of the shop doorways in Sioux Falls, and nearly got caught by the cops for squatting. I also hadn't been able to gather any money together. Usually, you'd find a few coins lying around, but in that week, I'd found nada. I hadn't eaten in three days, so I was starving, and desperate."

"Going back to what we were discussing before, why do you call Bobby your Dad?"

"Because to me, he was. Yeah, I didn't know him for that long, but in the time that I did, he was more of a Father to me then mine ever was. He loved me, and I loved him." I smiled. "In some ways I regret what I did that day in the diner, but out of that experience, I met Bobby, Sam and Dean."

The therapist looked down at his notes and nodded. "Okay, so Sam, tell me about him."

"Sam's my brother, and my best friend." I smiled. "He's always been there for me."

"And Dean?"

"Dean is..." I paused. "was..." I corrected. "My boyfriend." I explained. "He's Sam's older brother."

"Why did you break up?" The therapist asked.

I didn't answer.

"Okay..." The therapist looked over at me. "How did you feel when you and Dean split up?"

"Sad."

"How would you describe yourself?" He asked.

"Cursed." I scoffed.

"Why cursed?"

"Because everyone around me dies." I stated.

"Sam, Dean and Jess haven't died, and they've been around you." The therapist stated.

"It's only a matter of time, trust me." I leant back into the seat.

"You don't strike me as someone who is cursed, Carrie, just someone who is silently suffering and unwilling to let anyone in to help." The therapist leant forward. "Carrie, you must be able to see that this isn't healthy. Keeping everything locked away, no person should have to deal with that alone. Now, you have friends, and according to this, you have another parental guardian."

"John." I answered.

"Sam and Dean's father?"

I nodded.

"You have a good relationship with John?"

"Yeah, he's like a Dad to me too."

The therapist smiled. "Three father figures, aren't you lucky."

"Yeah, I am." I nodded.

"Could you talk to John about this?"

"He's not really the pour your heart out kinda' guy."

"That's not what I asked." The therapist stated. "Could you talk to John about this, and as a father figure, he would listen?"

I nodded.

"Then why don't we start there."

* * *

I opened the door of the apartment and walked in.

"Carrie?" Sam called.

"Yeah, it's me." I answered.

He walked into the living room. "How was your meeting with the therapist?"

"A waste of time, just as I said it would be."

"Carrie..." Sam began.

"It was. I don't know what else to say to you, Sam, but talking to some guy I don't know about my feelings just doesn't work for me."

"So my chances of getting you to actually go to your next meeting?" Sam asked.

"I'm not going back to therapy, I would rather French kiss a fucking Wendigo!" I walked off into my room and closed the door.


	11. Chapter 11

The day of my next scheduled therapy appointment arrived, and Sam, as I had suspected he would be, was on my case about it from the moment he saw me walk into the kitchen.

"So..." He began.

"So..." I repeated, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Your therapy appointment is today." Sam continued.

"Really? I'd completely forgotten." I stated sarcastically.

Sam shot me his bitch face. "Carrie, you should at least give these sessions a chance."

I sighed. "Why?" I stopped and turned to face him. "How is washing up all those memories and talking about them going to help me?"

"They don't just make you talk about everything for the hell of it, Carrie. It will help you in the long run."

"I don't want to talk to some stranger about my feelings..." I stated.

"Okay..." Sam nodded. "So let's talk."

I furrowed an eyebrow. "What?"

"If you don't want to talk to a stranger, then let's talk." Sam walked over and sat down on the couch.

"This is stupid, Sam." I followed him into the living room and sat down in the armchair.

"Carrie, I am your brother, and I wanna' help you." Sam stated softly.

I smiled. "I know."

"You've always talked to me about these sorts of things, what's changed?"

"I don't know...This stuff is just...you know...heavy..." I stated.

"Carrie, my Mom, she didn't die in a fire." Sam began.

I furrowed an eyebrow. "But John and Dean, they said that..."

"Well she did die _in_ the fire, but it wasn't an accident."

My eyes widened. "If it wasn't an accident...then what happened?"

"She died in my nursery. My Dad, he heard her scream, and when he ran in, she was on the ceiling." Sam explained, his voice clearly reflective on the emotions he was feeling talking about this.

"Why was she on the ceiling?"

"It was a demon." Sam answered. "Yellow eyed demon."

"Oh my god." I didn't know what to say.

"My Dad, he couldn't save her. Apparently the flames just engulfed the room so he couldn't get to her. That's why he became a hunter, to track down the thing that killed her and kill it." Sam smiled softly at me. "I can handle heavy, Carrie, and I'm not here to judge."

I nodded trying to hold back tears. "So where d'you wanna' start?"

It had been a few hours since Sam and I's heart to heart, and I had to admit I was feeling better after it. Currently reading some book that Jess had left lying around, I noticed Sam kept coughing. I glanced at him, before looking back down at the book.

After a few seconds, he began to cough again.

"Sam?" I asked in concern.

One. Two. Three. Four. Sam's fifth cough ended the fit.

I rushed over, and placed a hand on his back in comfort. "Are you sick?" I asked.

"No." Sam shook his head.

I just looked at him.

"I'm not sick." He stated before noticing the expression on my face. "You worry too much, it's just a cough."

"'It's just a cough'." I repeated his words, although they held no anger. "That's what Wolfe used to say." I sighed.

Sam shook his head, mentally kicking himself for his choice of words. "Don't worry about it." He replied in a hoarse tone.

I furrowed an eyebrow as I noticed his eyelids flickering as if he was struggling to keep his eyes open. "Sam?" I closed the distance between us and put a hand on his cheek, before panicking at what I discovered. My eyes widened. "You're burning up."

"I'm fine." Sam insisted, before shakily getting out of his seat.

"Sam..."

Sam's breath became heavier.

"Sam?" I furrowed an eyebrow.

One minute, Sam was upright and making his way across the room, the next, he was falling.

"Sam!" I exclaimed in horror before running over and catching him just before he smacked against the floor. I was nowhere near strong enough to support his dead weight, so we both hit the floor, me much harder than him as I took the brunt of the impact, breaking Sam's fall. "Sam?" I shook him gently. "Sammy?"

Sam only groaned, as sweat trickled down his face from his forehead, and his eyes remained shut.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I punched in 911.

* * *

"Thanks for scaring me like that." I shook my head, as I followed the guerney he had been placed on down the corridor of the hospital, lighting gripping the metal bar that ran along the side.

"I'm sorry." He apologised.

I smiled at him softly. "It's okay." I ran a hand through his brown hair. "You just need to hang in there, and get better." I smiled once again. "That's how you can make it up to me."

The doctor walked over. "I'm sorry, but you can't accompany your friend into the x-ray department." He stated. "There's a waiting room just down the hall though."

I nodded before looking down at Sam. "I'll see you straight after." I squeezed his hand reassuringly, before walking off the waiting room and taking a seat on one of the crappy plastic chairs.

The walls of the room were light blue, and tatty curtains of roughly the same colour were hung over the windows, blocking out the light of the moon.

The sound of hurried footsteps could be heard in the corridor, getting progressively louder as they came closer.

Looking up, Dean was stood in the doorway.

"Dean?" I stood up.

"Where's Sam?" He immediately asked. "Is he alright?"

"The doctor's presume so, they've found nothing majorly wrong with him." I explained. "They think it's Acute Sinusitis, but they've sent him upstairs to get an x-ray just to make sure."

"Is that bad?"

I shook my head. "Apparently it doesn't last very long, just a few weeks, and you treat it with antibiotics."

Dean sank down in the seat next to the one I had been sat in, and sighed in relief. "Oh thank god."

"How did you know we were here?" I asked.

"Jess rang me." He stated.

"Oh." I nodded.

"Today wasn't the first time she's rang me though." Dean continued in a soft tone. "She's been worried about you too."

I sighed, looking down.

"Hey..." His voice was caring and gentle. Dean placed a hand on my chin, lifting my head up so that I was looking at him.

A tear trickled down my cheek.

Not saying a single word, Dean simply pulled me against him, and wrapped his arms around me. His hold was tight and protective, and I loved it. Not realising just how much I had missed it.

I buried myself against his chest.

Dean began to stroke my hair. "She told me about Wolfe's memorial, and how depressed you've been feeling." His voice was heavy in concern. "And I know I'm that I'm a factor in that..." Dean sighed. "Carrie I'm sorry." He apologised as his voice began to crack.

I witnessed a tear trickle down his cheek.

Dean rested his chin gently on top of my head. "I'm so sorry." He was almost shaking now, and it hurt me to see him so worn down. Dean pressed a long kiss to my head, before hugging me tighter. "I..." He found himself at a loss for words.

"I know, Dean." I replied, softly, knowing exactly what he meant. "I love you too."

* * *

**-Sam's POV-**

The clock had just hit 2AM when the doctors discharged me with the advice to take my prescribed antibiotics, and rest.

"Do you know where my friend is?" I asked.

The nurse smiled at me before motioning down the hall. "She's in the waiting room."

"Thanks."

Walking down the corridor, I instantly felt guilty for scaring her like that, and making her wait for so long by herself. Stupid Sinusitis! Reaching the waiting room, I opened the door. What I saw brought a smile to my face.

Dean and Carrie were sat next to each other, Carrie's head rested on Dean's shoulder, curled into him, one arm round his back, one hand fisting the material of his shirt. Dean was also slumped towards Carrie, obviously to try and make her more comfortable, arms wrapped around her tightly as if never to let her go again. They were both fast asleep.

I closed the door as quietly as possible, but Dean being Dean was aware in seconds. His eyes flickered open, and caught sight of me through half open slits.

"Sam?" He asked sleepily.

I smiled. "Hi, Dean."

Dean immediately knew what I was smiling at and looked down at Carrie in his arms. He smiled softly, before gently sliding out of the seat, gently lying Carrie down across the two. He checked that she was still sleeping peacefully before walking over to me and placing his hands on my shoulders so that he could check me over.

"Dean...I'm fine, honestly." I stated, but I knew that wasn't going to cut it.

"Sam, you just collapsed." He retorted.

"Yeah, eight hours ago. I'm fine now, it's just a sinus infection that packs a bit more of a punch." I explained.

He raised an eyebrow.

"If you don't believe me, go ask my doctor. He just discharged me."

"What about the x-ray?" He asked.

"Came back clear." I stated. "Now can we go please, I've had just about enough of hospitals for one day." I smirked.

Dean smirked too.

I looked over at Carrie.

"Just let her sleep, she needs it." Dean stated, before walking back over and gently lifting her into his arms being careful not to wake her.

I smiled at him. Anyone could see just how much he loved her, and always had. The two of them were struggling to function without each other in the few months they were apart.

Carrie stirred slightly, but only shuffled closer to Dean's warmth.

Dean smiled with a smirk and a slight shake of his head.

I knew that there wasn't anything that my brother wouldn't do for Carrie, and he wouldn't have it any other way. I was just thankful that Dean had come to his senses and realised just how co-dependent the two of them are on each other. And that co-dependency is what makes their relationship so special. Even thinking back to the early days back at Bobby's, their relationship was beginning to blossom even back then. I'm thankful that my brother has Carrie, because with her, he can open up, be himself. My brother has always wanted to settle down with one girl, even though he would probably deny it. Despite the fact that at school, he was always the kid who made the girls swoon, and had the entire cheerleading squad lining up. But we never stayed long enough for a relationship to develop, and Dean knew that, which is why he never made any of them permanent. In his mind, he thought of them as nothing more than just another girl. I probably knew their names better than Dean did. But, it was blatantly obvious that he wasn't happy. That he wished he could have a stable life. A one where we didn't have to move around so much, didn't have to hunt, and had a Mom and Dad, just like any other teenager. A life where your biggest concerns were things like swatting for exams, and making the football team, not having to recite a excorcism in case of encountering a demon, or knowing what type of bullets you needed to kill a werewolf. Saying it like that, our life is so weird! But now with Carrie, Dean's like a different person. They're both so perfect for each other that it's creepy.

Walking down the corridor of the hospital, and out of the doors towards the parking lot, I spotted the Impala instantly, and god have I missed her! The last time I saw her, was March. Everything about her was the same. Obviously. Dean would never change anything on that car, he'd probably rather die then install something like a CD player.

Dean threw me the keys, and I unlocked her before opening the back door so that Dean could lay Carrie down on the backseat.

I then sat shotgun, as always, and threw Dean back the keys.

He turned to me. "You sure you're okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Dean smiled before inserting the key into the ignition and firing her up.

Halfway back to the apartment, Carrie began to stir in the back. I turned in my seat.

Carrie's eyes flickered open, before she furrowed an eyebrow, obviously confused by how she was now on the backseat of the Impala, instead of being in the waiting room at the hospital. As she caught sight of me, a smile lit up her face. "Sam?"

I smiled too.

She sat upright. "What happened? Are you alright? Why aren't we at the hospital?"

"I'm fine. The doctor's given me some antibiotics."

Carrie nodded. "That's good." She yawned. "What time is it by the way?"

Dean looked at the time on his watch. "Just gone two thirty."

"I wonder is Jess has waited up?" Carrie stated. "I feel bad for not ringing her, I wrote that note in a hurry so it wasn't exactly detailed. She's probably been worrying since she came back to find the two of us gone."

"She was in a state when she rang me." Dean explained. "But I calmed her down as much as I could over the phone."

"I'm sure she's fine." Carrie stated.

* * *

Unlocking the door of the apartment, I pushed open the door.

I saw Jess sat on the couch. She turned in an instant, eyes widening in relief. "Sam!" She grinned, rushing over and bundling me into a hug. "Oh thank god!"

I smiled and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. I stroked a hand through her hair comfortingly, before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I was so worried about you!" Jess rested her head against my chest. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I'm fine, Jess." I reassured.

Jess looked round me and noticed Dean with Carrie. A smile lit up her face.


End file.
